Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Gabon and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Kinks to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Maleditus Sound,
Kerri Chandler,
Spandau Ballet,
Q and Not U,
The Stooges,
The Fall,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Los Fastidios,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dead C,
Alphaville,
Lindisfarne,
Mantronix,
Cheater Slicks,
Matthew Halsall,
Althea and Donna,
Accadde A,
F. McDonald,
Desert Stars,
The Kinks,
Nirvana,
the Slits,
Derrick May,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dawn Penn,
Warren Ellis,
Lalann,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Green,
Marine Girls,
Dead Boys,
The Birthday Party,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Babytalk,
Tomorrow,
Bizarre Inc.,
Glenn Branca,
Josef K,
Dorothy Ashby,
AZ,
Black Moon,
Lou Christie,
The Trojans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Motorama,
Essential Logic,
The Cramps,
Curtis Mayfield,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Tremeloes,
Judy Mowatt,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sex Pistols,
Depeche Mode,
Frankie Knuckles,
The American Breed,
These Immortal Souls,
Talk Talk,
Franke,
Moss Icon,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.